


Siblings

by SpinningLenny



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: And then I started having Archangel feelings, Gen, This was supposed to be a cracky lil ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 14:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20259337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpinningLenny/pseuds/SpinningLenny
Summary: Archangels don't gossip.But sometimes they may happen to ... exchange opinions on current events.





	Siblings

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's not technically canon, but I'm going with Neilman's explanation that Michael, Uriel and Gabriel aren't archangels as in the second-lowest choir of angels, but rather The Archangels ranking above all the choirs.

“And then he said, ‘There are no back channels, Michael’” said Michael as they carefully straightened a feather on Uriel’s secondary left wing.

“And what did you say?”

“Nothing. Just smiled and got on with it.”

“I admire your restraint.”

“Well, you know how he gets when I pat his head and tell him how precious he is. I didn’t have time for that.” The Archangel continued preening their sibling, but couldn’t help muttering, “ThErE aRe No BaCk ChAnNeLs MiChAel”

Uriel made a sound that in a less divine being might have been called a snicker.

“You know, he probably really believes that.”

“Not sure if that makes it better or worse.” Michael nudged the last feather into place and stepped back. “There you are. All done.”

Uriel rose and spread their wings to their full reach. Their divine halo shone like the birth of a new sun, gleaming brilliantly off golden markings set in flawless dark skin. Michael clasped their hands in rapt veneration.

“Your beauty brings glory to the Almighty.”

“As it should. Shall I do yours now?”

“Please.”

There was no room for vanity in Heaven of course, and so the act of preening was purely utilitarian. And an angel’s love was by nature boundless and indiscriminate, which did not allow for anything as small-minded as the concept of a favourite sibling. It just so happened that Michael’s and Uriel’s schedules tended to coincide, as did a great many of their opinions (especially regarding their beloved sibling Gabriel). And since it would be unthinkable to face the hordes of the Enemy on the fields of Armageddon in anything less than a state of divine perfection, Michael allowed themself to manifest their multitude of wings and relax into their sibling’s trusted hands.

Soon Uriel’s gentle fingers were combing and straightening feathers with the ease of several thousand years’ practice, but Michael could feel that their mind was preoccupied with their previous topic. As always on these occasions Michael’s mind sang a prayer of divine gratitude that the Almighty had created them as separate beings, each with their own purpose but still capable of sharing each other’s burdens once in a while.

And even though the Archangel had never in their long life experienced a single moment of doubt in their own judgement, there was still a certain sense of reassurance when their sibling apparently reached the same conclusions Michael had.

“Do you think they could be a problem?”

“I hope not. We’re talking about a mere principality, after all.”

“Who used to be a cherub.”

“True.”

And no official explanation had ever been given for the unprecedented act of demotion. There were theories, of course, but still. It was one of those little details that Gabriel tended to dismiss, but Michael couldn’t help worrying at, in case it might turn out unexpectedly significant at some point. Apparently Uriel felt the same way.

“I would think that should at least warrant an attempt at following up.”

“So would I.”

For a while Uriel worked in silence. When they spoke up again, it was almost too softly for Michael to hear.

“You know he is going to keep believing in the principality’s innocence until the moment he sees the Grace burn out of them.”

“He always does.”

There was more they could have said—about how Gabriel had taken every Fall as a personal injury, about his protectiveness growing fiercer and more ruthless with every sibling they had lost to the Enemy. But they had both been there, and there was no need to speak of such matters now.

“Perhaps we might pay Aziraphale a visit,” Uriel suggested. “Just to make sure.”

Michael examined the idea from several angles. It did appear prudent, and yet…

“You realise that when Gabriel finds put we’ve gone behind his back, he will punish us most severely?”

“You mean another pep talk about tri-lateral communication?”

The fond annoyance in Uriel’s voice perhaps wasn’t quite done for one the Almighty’s highest-ranking servants, but Michael couldn’t hold back a smile.

“Worse.”

“With Power Point slides he drew up himself?”

“_Worse_.”

“I can’t possibly imagine anything could be more excruciating.”

“Yes, you can.”

The sound Uriel made was definitely not a groan, but only because no celestial being would stoop to anything so undignified.

“Oh, no, no, no…”

“So you do remember the last team building excursion?”

“I try very hard not to.”

Michael’s eyes closed in quiet relief as a secondary feather that had sat crooked for days was gently nudged back in its proper place. Then Uriel continued, “Of course, we could tell him that we’ve been inspired by his rousing leadership and initiative.”

“He would…probably eat that up, yes.” Michael allowed themself another moment of mirth before growing serious again. “And it is our duty to see to the Great Plan’s flawless execution.”

“Indeed. Will you conduct the confrontation, or shall I?”

“I would prefer to observe in this case. Though for all their strange inclinations the principality does appear a being of rather simple nature.”

“True. I shall attempt to be as unsubtle as possible then.”

“Thank you.”

Michael tried to relax, to discipline their mind into quiet contemplation. But there was still so much to take care of, so many matters to direct into their proper courses…

“You still worry.”

“I always do.”

“Hmm.”

There was no censure in Uriel’s voice, only quiet acknowledgement. They had known each other since before the beginning of time, and their natures were as familiar as the laws of time and space.

“We will win, Michael.”

The unshakeable faith in Uriel’s voice resonated all the way through Michael’s soul and the Archangel leaned into it, basked in the perfect trust and knowledge of purpose that was the core of their being. They had been crated as instruments of the Almighty’s will, and nothing could possibly stop them from playing their part in the Plan.

“Yes,” Michael murmured, their words both prayer and prediction. “We will win.”


End file.
